ep which I had taken. He wrote me an impassioned
letter, full of praise and brilliant prophecies, none of which he lived
to see fulfilled. His daughter, he assured me, would yet be grateful to
me for the firmness I had evinced, and that the blessing of Heaven must
attend conduct so estimable and wise. Anna herself wrote in another
strain. The act which she had so long dreaded was accomplished--it was
useless to look back--she could only hope and pray for the future. She
entreated me to be careful of my health, and to accustom myself gradually
to my new employment. It was a consolation to behold her father so very
happy, and to find me contented in my position. Nothing would give her
now such satisfaction, as to be convinced that she had been wrong
throughout, and that I had done well in giving up my former occupations.
A month passed quickly by. The engagements of the firm were met--and its
affairs were carried on as usual. No change took place. The only
difference was my presence, and the appearance of my name in all the
transactions of the house. I saw my mother frequently--but my uncle, by
degrees, withdrew. His own affairs required his constant attention, but
he provided me with help and countenance in the person of Mr Gilbert.
This gentleman, in addition to the character of a bosom friend, sustained
another--that of _legal adviser_ to my uncle! He visited me daily, and
helped me marvellously. He procured from my uncle my patrimony of four
thousand pounds--drew up in return for it a release, which I
executed--paid the money into my banker's hands--received my mother's
dividend--inspected the accounts--advised summary proceedings against
defaulters--and settled, at a certain rate, to purchase a few outstanding
debts, which it would cost some trouble and manoeuvring to get in. I
could not choose but act upon advice that was at once so very friendly
and professional. My inexperience, for a time, gratefully reposed in Mr
Gilbert. Exactly two months after I had entered the concern, I married.
Sun never rose more promisingly upon a wedding-day--a lovelier bride had
never graced it. I pass over the few intoxicating weeks during which life
assumes a form and hue which it never wore before--never puts forth
again. The novelty of my situation--the joy I had in her possession, and
in the knowledge that she was wholly mine--lived now and breathed for
me--the pride with which I gazed upon her blooming beauty, and communed
with her